Thou Who Art Undead, Art Chosen
by Captain Possum
Summary: What if Oscar of Astora hadn't gone hollow? What if he and the Chosen Undead had made the pilgrimage to the Bells of Awakening together?


This idea has obviously done before, but I hope it hasn't been done so many times it's not fun to read. I took a lot of liberties with the dialogue so it wasn't just copied and pasted (Further on I'll have more of a chance to write more interesting conversation, there just wasn't much opportunity in the first chapter and my main character is practically mute, anyway).

…

The time in prison wasn't so bad. I only screamed for the first month and when I got bored of doing that my throat was dry anyway, so it didn't matter. After I starved to death the first time the pain faded, the floor wasn't intolerable and for me the silence wasn't so bad. There was the ring too, I suppose.

I'd also come to terms with that fact I would be here for eternity, so it was less a case of when I would escape, and more a case of when I would go hollow. Hollowfication was the closest an undead could get to death, after all. Truth is I don't know what stopped me going over the edge.

It was leaving the prison that was difficult. Sure; the body fell, I held the key in my hand- the key to that door which had held me back and almost driven me mad- but I still felt like there was something in my way. The cell didn't need a barricade to hold me there, it seemed. I was at a loss.

I paced back and forth for a little while, making moves to go outside but never really intending to follow through with them. I _had_ to think this through. So I sat. I'd been sitting down for Gwyn (Sorry for using Lord Gwyn's name in vain)-knows how long in this cell to begin with so waiting a little longer meant very little. But it's not like I had any options to consider, right? Stay here until the walls fell around me or face whatever was ahead? So why couldn't I force myself to take the first step?

I stopped and started a few times, then put my foot in and out the room a few times more. Took a deep breath and then practically jumped out into the hallway. I hadn't been struck down, so I took it as a sign I was going in the right direction. A few hollows, they didn't seem too bothered by me (just don't look them in the eye), but I gripped the sword handle just in case. The one in the corner was already half-addled when I was thrown here. The other half hadn't taken long.

One foot in front of the other, as my Mother used to say.

The trek was uneventful to say the least, with only mindless husks of people who had lost hope before me smacking their heads against the wall or sobbing into their knees. It gave me time to think unfortunately. How long could even I endure sitting alone? Would I have been strong enough to resist hurting anyone once I went hollow? I stopped thinking after that. Without a real reason to go on I still wasn't above going mad.

The first significant thing to happen to me was discovering a bonfire. I knew a little about them from the mandatory studies all clerics had to do on the chance they turned undead, and it was enough to motivate me to forget my previous darker thoughts. Lighting the bonfire- despite the small comfort- did little to help my clouded head. I had felt it was a milestone, though. Day one: stepped out into the open, almost cried, set fire to bunch of sticks.

Achievements aside, I had still been dazed when I opened the doors only to see the I-don't-know-what-it-was in front of me. The faith had warned me about creatures like this when I was a child; said they came from the Great Swamp and ate people who didn't pray to Gwyn before they went to bed. I knew now that those were tall tales but it still didn't seem real until my limp body was crumpled against wall.

Sitting up stark straight at the bonfire, I still hadn't quite registered it all. It had happened so fast! Was it a demon? Was that what the guard protected us from? (Until you were cursed with the darksign, of course, after which you were fair game to any morbid fate).

It took two deaths (to this day referring to how many times I've died doesn't seem right), but I eventually found a door in the side. I assumed it was placed by the Gods (after all of this happening to me in such a short time, anything was possible), then continued on my way because there was nothing else to do but keep searching for answers.

I hoped not to see that demon again.

The hollows further on weren't docile in the slightest, but were so far fallen from sanity disposing of them with the mace and shield I'd picked up wasn't too difficult a task. One of them, however, had thrown a boulder at me with such force it broke the wall and almost broke my leg. I sprinted up, threw myself at it with the mace and bludgeoned the thing until all it did was twitch. This wasn't too bad. I was going to carry on moving without a second thought, but then I heard a man cough.

I stood and listened for a minute or two. Was he hollow? He sounded injured either way, so it wouldn't take long to finish him off…

I ignored the implications of simply thinking of people in terms of how quickly I could kill them and burst through the opening, mace in hand. I wasn't expecting him to be lucid, let alone sane.

"You- you got out"

I nodded before I truly remembered who the man was. He had thrown down the corpse with the key!

"I haven't got much time. I'm going to go-" he stopped to brace himself with a breath "-I'm going to go hollow soon, since I have failed my mission and have little else to live for. Hear me out, will you?"

I nodded again. Maybe he had let me out for a reason. Maybe this was the purpose I was looking for.

"Thank you. Listen closely… I wish I could explain more, but I know very little, I'm afraid. There's an old saying in my family; _Thou who art Undead, art chosen, __i__n thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords, when thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know. _Take this key, and my estus flask. You'll need them both. Find the large Pilgrim's door, and you can leave"

I listened to every word he said intently. But there was one thing I still hadn't understood. Coughing as furiously as I could, it took a few tries before the words came out;

"Why can't you go on?"

He'd stared at me through his visor for a moment, as if I was a fool "If you haven't noticed, I'm dying. I'm of little use to anyone like this."

He was undead like me, though, wasn't he? If the Way of White had taught me anything good in all my years, it was that all- or most of- life was sacred. I gave him back his estus flask.

"There's a bonfire below. Sip this, let me haul you up"

"I- Are you certain?"

I didn't grace him with an answer, never being one for talking even before being thrown into the Asylum.

I pulled him up, then dragged him down to the bonfire before unceremoniously plonking his quickly flagging body in front of it.

"I don't have a talisman to help the healing. Sorry."

"That won't be necessary now, I think. We should escape this place before deciding what we both intend to do next." Once he seemed sufficiently healed, he stood up and offered his hand "I am in your debt. My name is Oscar, Knight of Astora. And you are?"

"My… name?" I hadn't thought about it, to be honest. It's not like I'd need one. The faith made it clear being undead made you less than human, unless you could obtain the Rite of Kindling. So I trawled through the memories I had of my time in the living until one name seemed to stick.

"Rowan. Way of White."

"A pleasure, and I'm sure we can have proper introductions once we're in a safer place. Should we get going?" He adjusted his sword and shield, then ushered me to follow him. I much preferred this to heading out on my own, I thought.

We walked in silence for a while, dispatching of the occasional hollow and even finding a canvas talisman which Oscar eagerly handed over, telling me that miracles would definitely benefit our chances of survival. Couldn't argue with that. Only a few steps after we reached a fog white door, and after spotting it I thought to warn him about the monster behind it.

"I'm sure you've already noticed, but there's a demon down there. We have to kill it to get out safely." No need as it seemed he already knew. He gripped his sword tighter, much more willing to face (sort of) death than I. "Are you ready?"

I nodded. No point dragging things on.

As soon as we stepped through the gate, the demon was there to greet us. I would have been more than happy to stay on the ledge but Oscar was much braver and immediately leaped down then followed up by plunging his sword into the creature's head. It had felt a little surreal, watching it flail about with the knight gracefully removing his blade to land on the ground below. These sorts of things weren't meant to happen to clerics.

"Jump!"

I snapped back to reality at Oscar's voice, and noticed he was doing his best to draw the demon's ire so it would leave me be. One hasty prayer before I jumped off the platform, landed behind the demon then stuck my mace in the back of its leg, and then removed it to strike again at the flank. The knight took a bad hit- notified by an outraged grunt- so I stepped off the offensive and began to cast a healing miracle at the back of the arena (I was secretly pleased to have an excuse to stop attacking). A few of the words slurred so the final result wasn't as great as I'd hoped, but he was alive with renewed vigour so I assumed it worked.

Stepping back in I noticed battle wasn't my strongest suit. I was cack-handed by nature and was much more suited to praying than fighting. Watching Oscar- who made up for my inadequacy in that regard- I shuddered to think what would have happened to me had he stayed in that room, alone and dying. After a few more brilliantly placed hits from him the demon collapsed, lifting its huge hand up and receiving sword in the head for the trouble. It gave a few shudders, then died.

It died. We'd won. Neither of us had spoken for a while; presumably out of exhaustion for him and shock for me. It was dead, and they were real. Nothing the faith taught could have prepared me for that.

After the silence Oscar noticed my unease, and tried to offer what I guessed was reassurance "You did fine, Rowan. Are you alright?" He clicked his hands then sheathed his weapon. After he realised I wasn't going to answer, he handed me a large key. "Look, the demon had the key to the door." Another uneasy cough and pause "I'm not certain what lies ahead after we escape from the Asylum, but would you like to come with me for a while longer? We can travel to the Bell of Awakening together."

He received another nod in reply, then with my help pushed the huge doors aside.

We were free.

And it was beautiful.

I hadn't realised until that point just how much I'd missed the feel of sunlight on my skin or the crisp taste of fresh air on my tongue. Just how long had I been held in that prison? In hindsight, I was glad I had forgotten about all of it or perhaps I would have gone hollow a lot sooner.

I didn't look back at the building, since I felt if I did I'd be overcome with the same terrible emotion I'd experienced when first leaving my cell. No more looking back, now.

However Oscar, even if he'd felt the same way I did, didn't show or voice is pleasure as he carried on walking towards the edge of the hill. But there was nothing there… I thought that we'd come all this way only to reach a dead end.

"Wait! Where are you going? It's a cliff edge!" Shouting was hell on my vocal chords at that point, but I had done it anyway. I sprinted after him, stopping just at the edge about to ask him what he intended to do now we had nowhere else to go…

Then a crow- easily the size of horse- flew down from above and grabbed Oscar and I in each claw.

Strangely, I had been the only one to scream.


End file.
